


Like strangers

by Pinophyta



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Casual Sex, Doggy Style, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Rutting, no kissing in this fic, or is it???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 10:22:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4702493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinophyta/pseuds/Pinophyta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas is in heat. His relationship with Dorian might not be the closest, but he feels he can ask him for help. It's not like he has many choices left this time around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like strangers

**Author's Note:**

> I don't explain the nature of Solas's heat, but in my headcanon it's a quirk exclusive to him.

“I need to have a word with you”

And just like that, Solas was gone, fully expecting Dorian to follow without question.

Dorian frowned. What if he had something important to do? Did Solas not care about that? He didn't actually have anything to do, but that was besides the point. Who was he to demand his attention like that?

Regardless, Dorian put his book down and followed Solas out of camp. He found him some ways away, in a small but secluded clearing amongst the trees. He looked worried, his usually calm hands fidgeting in front of him.

“Something wrong?” Dorian asked.

Solas measured his words carefully.

“I have a... condition. It's not contagious, it's not severe, it doesn't impair my abilities in any way. It is merely a... quirk of my body, and it causes me some... discomfort.”

Dorian was stunned for a moment. This was Solas, always calm and all knowing, speaking with uncertainty and a faint shake in his voice. It made Dorian uncomfortable, specially considering the vague reason for his worries.

“Have you consulted this with the Inquisitor?” he asked. “I'm sure the Inquisition has some healer available that...”

Solas shook his head.

“I know there is no known potion, spell or treatment for my ailment. I know of ways to supress it, to an extent, but none of them are available to me at the moment.”

Solas looked away, thoughtful. Dorial felt like there was something more Solas wanted to say, but it was taking him a lot of effort to spill it out. He decided to take a guess.

“Are you going to... ask me for help?”

Solas ignored his question. He grasped his hands tighter, inhaled, and spoke.

“How would you feel if I asked you for a casual sexual encounter, Dorian?”

For a few seconds, Dorian could not come up with words to describe how he felt. He looked at Solas, the quiet intellectual elf, and his mind took a few extra seconds to process the fact that he was asking him for sex. Sex. Solas. For some reason, both concepts didn't quite add up.

“Wow.” he finally managed. “Is this what your condition does? Have you look for a one night stand with the worst person possible? Because if that's so, I disagree with you: your condition is, in fact, severe.”

Solas didn't seem too amused by his quip.

“Normally it would not come to this. The effects of my ailment subside naturally after a few days. Except, this time, they have not.”

Dorian nodded. “Aha. And sex is the only thing than can cure you?”

Solas frowned, pacing from side to side. “The matter is a bit more complex than that, but yes. Right now it seems to be the only option left.”

“That still doesn't explain why you're asking me. Me, of all people.”

Solas put his hands on his hips, visibly losing his patience, but continued to speak as polite and calm as he had managed until that point.

“We are friends. Sort of. Amicable enough, but not enough to make this intimate. We're both mages, and I know you are no stranger to casual encounters.”

Dorian shrugged. “Is that all?”

Solas crossed his arms.

“You're also an attractive man. By human standards, of course.”

“Of course.”

There was something about the way Solas had spoken those words that threw Dorian off. He was being impersonal, as if Dorian's beauty was a matter of fact. Which it was, naturally. But the hint of embarrassment to his voice made Dorian think that Solas genuinely found Dorian attractive. Perhaps in some deep, deep hidden and repressed level, one that had been unearthed by whatever this sickness was. But it was there.

And Dorian could not deny Solas's charms. It wasn't the type of beauty he was typically attracted to, but his magical knowledge and his confidence more than made up for that.

And he had beautiful hands, too. And lips. Very smooth and inviting.

The silence between them threatened to cross into awkward territory, so Dorian inquired:

“Alright. Where and when, exactly, would you plan on doing this?”

“Right here, tonight, if possible. It's a secluded space, away enough from camp to have intimacy but not enough to pose a risk.”

Dorian noticed Solas's hands idly drift towards his belt buckle. He wondered how horny Solas was, exactly. His cheeks were flushed, and his body tense like a string. He looked a few seconds away from leaping at Dorian, and this thought was more exciting than Dorian was willing to admit.

He took a step towards Solas, only so he could speak more quietly, of course.

“And how would we... do this? If we were to, of course.”

“Is that a yes?” Solas asked, hopeful.

“I am certainly intrigued.”

Solas further closed the distance between them.

“I need to know. Yes, or no.”

From this up close Dorian could clearly see the pent up desire within Solas. It was a strange picture, to see a man so usually cold and uninterested in worldly pleasures, consumed by a pure, sexual hunger. His eyelids were heavy, his lips parted and rosy. He could not avert his eyes from Dorian. He needed him. He wanted him.

“For you, Solas, anything.”

His hands were idle no more.

Solas unbuckled his belt. He tossed the pelt over his shoulders and got rid of his coat. His hands were steady, but the urgency in his motions was clear.

Dorian set to taking off his own clothes, desire building by the second. He wasn't done yet when Solas walked up to him to whisper into his ear.

“I want you to take me, right here on the forest floor.”

Dorian groaned. Never in a thousand years had he expected to hear those words come out of Solas's mouth. He was not ready for the effect they had on his body.

Solas's hand invaded him before he could get his breeches off. Solas helped with one hand, while grasping Dorian's cock with the other. He seemed pleased, happy that he wouldn't have to prepare Dorian for long. He wasn't sure Dorian was attracted to him enough to ignite his desire, but from his reactions, he certainly had no complains.

“Maker be damned, Solas.” Dorian let out in a whimper, feeling Solas's soft fingers close thightly around him, pumping at a steady pace.

Solas smiled, pleased with himself.

Dorian tried to reach out and help Solas with his own clothes, but he finished removing them without any help. They were both now standing naked in the forest, pleasant warm air surrounding them.

Dorian's hands drifted down, trying to reciprocate Solas's motions. He grasped Solas's cock in his hand. He was leaking abundantly, which Dorian hastily spread all over him with firm motions. Solas gasped, his hands abandoning Dorian. Dorian didn't mind, he was already as hard as he could get. Now he wanted to feel Solas, lost in his touch, labored breathing in his ear, abandoning all his inhibitions. He was beautiful, his skin flushed and the expression on his face completely overcome with pleasure.

He could feel Solas's breath on his face, and seeing his lips that up close was driving Dorian insane. They looked ripe, begging for his ministrations with a vivid red tone Dorian couldn't keep his eyes off of.

But they hadn't agreed to that. It would make things... different. Dorian wasn't sure he could “do” different right now. It would be so easy to kiss, in the heat of the moment. Pay no mind to it as a gesture of affection, pretend it has no consequences. But he couldn't bring himself to.

Solas whimpered, his body shook, almost at the brink of orgasm. But this wasn't an orgasm, not quite. He leaned into Dorian, rested his forehead against him, taking a moment to breathe.

He took Dorian's hands, gently pulling them away. He turned around and guided Dorian's arms around his body. He felt Dorian's hard cock against him, and he moaned.

Dorian worried for a moment that Solas's moan had been audible from camp, but he was quickly distracted by the fact that Solas was gently pulling them both down. They fell on their knees, Solas still in his arms, cock gently nudged against his ass and his ear an inch away from his nose.

Before he could give in to the temptation of nibbling at it, Solas bent forward in front of him.

Dorian's hands reached to touch Solas's back almost on instinct, wanting to feel the expanse of pale skin under his fingertips. He never would have imagined Solas to be so beautiful, so lean and perfect. He was a mess of desire, completely surrendering to Dorian's touches.

Solas bent his arms, driving his head low while keeping his back up, making it clear to Dorian how he wanted to be taken.

Dorian felt light headed for a moment. He could not belive Solas would offer himself to him like that.

“Are you...” his voice broke the silence, hesitant. “Are you sure about this?”

With the sultriest urgency Dorian had ever heard, Solas moaned.

“Please, Dorian.”

He almost sounded like he was in pain, but there was no mistaking the rise and fall of his labored breath, the soft shiver of his body... And the pleading look in his eyes.

Dorian didn't need to be told twice. He reached down, enjoying every inch of Solas's skin like it was fine silk. He had a beautiful, pert ass he had never had the chance to admire under his questionable choice of clothes. He touched softly, savoring the moment. Only when he began grabbing, tenderly at first, Solas sunk his head in his arms to quiet his moans.

Dorian spread him gently, biting his lip at the sight of such beauty. He was tight and pale, not a hint of hair anywhere, his skin flush and soft as the rest of his body. Unsure about Solas's past sexual experiences, Dorian would have to proceed gently. His fingers wandered tendery, softly massaging around Solas's entrance.

“Is this what you want?” he whispered.

He didn't meant to tease, he merely wanted to know what Solas needed from him.

Solas's hands grasped the cold grass.

“Yes.” he said, his groan clear like the cloudless sky, more annoyed now than lust-ridden.

To drive the point home, he accomodated his legs better, raising his ass a bit more. Dorian could not hide his amusement, and he was glad Solas had his head buried in the ground, or else he would have definitely made a snarky comment about it.

He conjured a simple grease spell, a pleasant oily substance covering his fingers. He set to work on Solas's hole, gently massaging and prodding with his index finger. He was tight, so impossibly tight, Dorian guessed Solas hadn't done this in a while. He must have done it in the past, if he knew with that much certainty that it was what he needed. But he clearly hadn't been getting any from anyone in the Inquisition, for sure.

The fingering seemed to calm Solas down, his breathing quieter and less urgent. He relaxed considerably, and even when Dorian tried a second finger, his reaction was only positive.

Now it was Dorian's turn to struggle with desire. His hands were steady, but he was sweating and shaking, eager to replace his fingers with his cock. His right hand continued to finger Solas, stretching gently, reaching deep and driving soft whimpers out of the other man's throat. His conjuring hand reached for his cock, keeping himself hard and ready, spreading the conjured substance over himself.

He fit his index, middle and ring finger inside Solas with minimal difficulty, and the sight of it made Dorian whisper an obscenity. He had been so much easier to stretch than anticipated, so compliant and eager. Solas opened his eyes and looked back at him. Dorian expected a plea, instead he found a playful smile.

He could not stop the smile that came to his face in answer, even if he had wanted to. He couldn't help it. He was filled with anticipation and lust, but also a strange warmth and happiness. It was as if, for a split second, they both aknowledged the humor of the situation.

Dorian's fingers abandoned his body, and Solas felt him move. He squirmed in delight at what was to come.

Dorian found himself shaking, as he took his cock in hand, and tenderly grabbed Solas with the other. He looked up, and time seemed to freeze in place for one eternal second, where he saw Solas panting, tense and eager, waiting to be mounted with the same urgency and need as an animal in heat.

He pushed the head of his cock against Solas's entrance, feeling it give gently. Solas held his breath until Dorian's head was fully inside him.

Dorian knew enough elven to understand Solas's curse, and it was a foul one. Knowing he had caused Solas to lose his composture like that made him feel weak for a moment.

He pulled himself together and slowly continued pushing inside of Solas. He was tight, despite the stretching, but he slowly gave in with no signs of pain on Solas's part. He looked up and saw him lost in pleasure, his hands grasping at the grass so hard Dorian thought he might rip it off the ground. With a final push, Dorian was fully inside of him, and he let out a weak, exhausted moan.

He didn't linger, however. He needed more. And he knew Solas wanted more. He pulled out slowly, observing Solas's reaction, but he saw only delight, so he thrusted back in. Solas's body shook, and Dorian felt him push back to meet his thrust. His hands wandered up his back, caressing his sides, feeling Solas's lean muscles under his fingertips as he began thrusting into him.

He leaned forward, hands gripping the grass on both sides of Solas, and he put more strength to his movements. Solas met every single one of his thrusts with enthusiasm, making him sink to the hilt every time, drawing deep, passionate sounds out both of them.

Solas made it clear that he wanted more, faster, as Dorian failed to match the pace set by his hips. He hurried, giving in to his own need to thrust harder, exactly as Solas wanted. He tried to keep some distance from Solas's body, they were fucking, not making love after all, but his arms felt weaker and he couldn't hold up. He pressed againt Solas's back, feeling his ardent skin against his cheek. Solas didn't complain about the intimate touch. The sensation of Dorian's facial hair, rough against his soft skin, only added to the ocean of pleasurable feelings he was drowning in.

He found he needed that touch, in fact, as much as he needed Dorian's cock fucking him. His warmth was comforting, his hands firm and delightful. And his scent...

Solas felt his thoughts drift away. Dorian's pace was perfect now, hard and fast. The wind rustled the leaves above them, sweet as a caress. A wolf howled in the distance, barely audible. The night was quiet, and their combined sounds filled it with a lascivious melody.

Dorian circled Solas's lean body with one arm, reaching down his stomach and grabbing his cock in hand. To his surprise, Solas interrupted him, gently but firmly pulling his hand away.

Dorian didn't question it. He wasn't a selfish man, he wanted to get Solas off, but he was willing to let it be for now. He kept fucking him, losing himself in the feeling, holding the warm body beneath him, feeling the salty taste of sweat in his mouth...

By the time he noticed what he had done, it was too late. Dorian had already placed several kisses on Solas's spine, and he couldn't tell for sure if he approved of it or not. He felt intoxicated by the flavor, by the feeling of his beautiful skin against his lips, but he wouldn't taste it again.

He focused on pleasing Solas, which was an easy enough task, because it was driving him into unbelievable heights of pleasure too. It was too perfect. Solas was too beautiful, and he cursed under his breath because he would never be able to look at him the same way again.

Solas whimpered. The grass his fists were holding on to was torn off the ground. He arched his back. He felt a spark go off inside him, _the_ spark, and as he felt the fire ripple through his body, like waves crashing on a beach, all his mind could think of was “ _Thankyou Dorian, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou._ ”

Solas spent himself on the grass underneath him, without any aid from his or Dorian's hand. His body shook, he felt himself tighten around Dorian's cock, and he responded with a blunt groan signaling his own impending release.

Solas was calm. He welcomed Dorian's seed inside of him. Feeling his weight on top, his face buried in his back, filled him with a peaceful sensation. He felt protected, secure. He felt sated.

Dorian's orgasm was as intense as it was indecorous. He felt barbaric next to Solas's elegant orgasm, like a bursting dam compared to a beautiful cascade. He was overcome with an urgent need to pull out, and pretend none of this happened. His thoughts quieted when he saw the delighted smile on Solas's face.

Instead of running like a coward, Dorian was determined to face the consequences of what had transpired then and there. He took a moment to hold himself up, and very delicately pull out of Solas. His seed spilled out of him, and somehow even this vulgar sight resulted beautiful to Dorian. He felt it suited Solas. Like the final stroke on a painting.

Solas rolled onto his back, stretching like a pleased pet, arms above his head and a mellow smile on his face. He opened his eyes and looked at Dorian. His smile became even sweeter.

Dorian smiled back, and dropped next to him. The grass was cold, probably full of bugs, but he was exhausted.

Their breaths returned to normal gradually, slowly leaving room for the sounds of the night.

Solas spoke, but Dorian had never heard his voice like that. There was exhaustion in it, but above all there was an incredible smoothness, like his voice was part of the night itself.

“You're good at this.” he said.

Dorian laughed, surprised by the straightforward compliment.

“Thankyou, I suppose.” he managed. His voice sounded noticeably more tired and broken than Solas's. “You're not too bad yourself.”

Solas smiled and nodded. He began drifting, much like Dorian was, tired and soothed by the breeze and the crickets.

“I can never thank you enough for doing this.” Solas said, in earnest.

“It's not like it was such a sacrifice, really. I think I can live with it.” Dorian said, amused, and they both laughed. In a more serious tone, he asked: “...how are you feeling?”

Solas inhaled, held his breath, and exhaled. “Relieved.”

“So your condition thing... It wasn't just an excuse to get me in bed? So to speak, I mean.”

Solas chuckled.

“I can assure you, it is real. And very, very inconvenient. Again, I must thank you for helping me get rid of it.”

Dorian nodded, accepting Solas's word. Perhaps it was an elven thing, or a Solas thing, or he'd been cursed by spirits. Dorian decided to stop thinking about it the moment his mind wandered into a question. Had Solas really wanted this? It was clear enough that asking Dorian for sex had been a last resort measure, but how comfortable Solas would have been if his “condition” hadn't been there to manipulate his mind? Dorian couldn't tell.

He tool some solace in the fact that Solas seemed to be enjoying _this_ moment, just laying in the grass together, naked and unguarded.

“We should probably head back soon.” Dorian said. It wasn't smart to bet that neither wild animals nor bandits would wander in their direction.

“Absolutely.” Solas agreed.

Despite that, they both lounged for five more minutes, too exhausted to get up. Solas did it first. He recovered his breeches and his robe, and after a bit of rustling in the dark, he found his belt. His necklace had been comfortably nested on his shirt, so he quickly retrieved it and put it around his neck. He helped Dorian get up, and together they found their remaining garments.

They quietly returned to camp, the only aknowledgement they received was a nod from a couple of guards, merely confirming they were back safely. Nobody seemed to pay them any special attention, which confirmed that their sounds had, thankfully, not reached the camp.

Blackwall was still chatting with one of the guards near a campfire. The Inquisitor had gone to sleep long ago. Solas walked towards their tent, but Dorian stood some paces behind, unsure about what to do.

They would have to share the tent. They always did, but this time Dorian still had Solas's scent fresh in his tongue. He wondered if sleeping, just sleeping next to Solas really had to be different after this. They had plenty of room inside the tent to leave a generous gap between them. It was comfortable, practical. But Dorian thought the gap would feel unusually cold tonight.

Solas turned to look at him before getting in the tent, an unspoken question in his eyes. _Are you not coming?_

Suddenly embarrassed, and awkward, Dorian turned to look at the fire. He could linger there for a few minutes, giving time for Solas to get in bed and fall asleep, and then he could...

Solas interrupted his chain of thought.

“There is no need for that, Dorian.” he said. “You're tired. Don't be foolish.”

With that, he went inside. Dorian sighed. Solas was right, as usual.

He felt asleep looking at the outline of Solas's figure in the dark, oddly comforted by it.

 

 


End file.
